


fif-teen

by noiselesspatientspider



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: 15 Days of FatT, Drabble Collection, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 20:13:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noiselesspatientspider/pseuds/noiselesspatientspider
Summary: 1. dance, adelaide/hella





	fif-teen

It’s an unfamiliar dance, encrusted with age and tradition the way everything in Nacre feels. The dance moves with practiced, flowing motions, spinning in patterns Hella can’t quite follow. She misses Ordenna suddenly, fiercely, misses the way the dancers had flung themselves across a space as if certain the laws of the world would bend before them. They were Ordennan, after all.

Adelaide lays a hand on her shoulder, cool against Hella’s scarred skin, and she jumps. “Just watching?” Adelaide asks.

“I– yes,” Hella says. “I don’t really do this,” she adds, gesturing vaguely at all of it– the ballroom, the silks, Lem in the corner watching a ghostly pirate twirl across the floor and running his fingers absently over the patterns in his tusks. The dancers move and dip and flourish and Hella feels suddenly dizzy with it.

“I don’t know the steps, anyway,” she says. It comes out more bitter than she’d intended.

Adelaide smiles. She always looks like she wants something when she smiles. “You don’t need to,” she says, holding out her hand. “Just follow my lead.”

And then her rings are pressing into the meat of Hella’s calloused palm and they’re moving, Adelaide turning her with surprising strength. She’s not small, the Queen of Pearls, but she looks soft. Looked soft, anyway, until she had Hella in her arms where she could feel the steel core running through the center of her.

Hella swallows, tries not to stare at the vulnerable curve of Adelaide’s neck, the place where her breasts don't quite disappear into the silk of her gown.

Adelaide pulls her close for a turn, spins her out with a flourish, and pulls her back in again. Her breath tickles Hella’s cheek. “You can look, you know,” Adelaide says. “You’re allowed.”

“I know,” Hella says. She closes her eyes. She lets herself be moved.


End file.
